MI6: Conscription and Forced Espionage
by twentytwo guns
Summary: Murdoch Simon is a kleptomaniac teaching assistant with a bit of a pervert streak who managed to score big. Sadly he really never accounted for being conscripted into MI6, let alone being forced to spy in another country. But hey, at least there are wonderful... aliens? O.C. MI6, harem? No slash, sorry. Minato is still a wimp. Might mess with his 'flock'. Swearing, no lemons.. yet


"I hate all things peppy!" - Talking

'_Stupid teenagers.' _- Thinking

"..._wonderful_..._" _- Extra emphasis/ Example- Sarcasm,

**O.C. in the Serkirei universe! Ohh! Shocking! Yeah, no, got bored and I HATE how wimpy Minato is. Expect bashing!**

**Entirely about setting up character interactions, back story, and transition into the Sekirei universe! Or you could wait for the next one and just skip this, but then you won't get a cookie!**

"_I can't whistle so I just say the words wheet-whoo."_

_-Fay D. Flourite (Tsubasa Chronicles)_

**Prologue- **_**It's fun to steal... until you get arrested**_

**~London, England - 5:00 A.M. / August, 3, 2013- Murdoch's Apartment~**

Murdoch Fuchs Simon jolted awake to another day of _bright_, _happy_, _peppy sunshine._.. and it immediately pissed him off. It wasn't the light shining through his yellowed glass window and onto his face that pissed him off. No, it was the fact that there was still something so _bright _in _his_ apartment. It annoyed him to absolutely no end.

"I swe'r te all tha 's 'oly an un'oly, I'll find som' way te end yew! Yew damnable gas ball o' bright bloody light!" Murdoch muttered in hate as he threw a pale arm over his eyes to forestall getting up as long as possible. And as always, when he first woke up he had that damn accent that he tried so hard to suppress.

But he couldn't lay in bed forever, hiding from both the day and the sun. _'Curse you!'_ No, if he did that then he wouldn't be able to see the _wonderful_ students at Our Lady of London Academy that _ever so fondly_ referred to him as a _"thug"_.

Not that the name bothered him, he thought it was a bit ironic, and funny as hell, that one of his favorite songs was 'Thug Life'. An American song oddly enough.

It was the fact that there were some who actually thought they could get away with calling him that. They got kicked out of class if he heard, the brats had no respect! He was an assistant teacher dammit! Murdoch deserved their respect... even if the thug title was a bit deserved.

So what!? He even helped set up that swordsmanship club that some indiscriminate Japanese transfer student recommended, and the kids loved it! Especially since he helped fund it, so the club was really easy to get into. But did he get a 'you're such a nice guy Murdoch!' or a 'I love you Murdoch, you're so amazing!'... Well that might be a bit much, but the point remained.

He even helped train them, that's dedication! Then again, he had learned a breathing technique from a military buddy that helped control emotions to the extreme, so it probably was scary for them when he didn't show any emotion while beating the crap out of new club recruits. That, and he probably couldn't be classified as in the _"right state of mind"_, as the term were... Semantics.

But still can't he get _any _love... besides the 'sleepover' kind. He got plenty of that, kukuku...

The blaring of his half broken alarm clock knocked Murdoch out of his perverse giggling trip down gutter alley, and again he had to curse the crummy thing. He was almost late, he still had...two hours before he had to set up for the club. Well, that wasn't late. What happened to sleeping in!? The whole universe is against him, trying to make sure he wakes up early! Stupid sun, it's behind it all!

Murdoch raised a fist at the sun that seemed to be mocking him, trying to throttle it, but eventually he had to concede defeat. Ehh, he might as well get going now or those three would be mad, well two of the three. One seemed to always be happy, but the others... righteous female furry is nothing to laugh at and her minion was built like a freaking tank.

Murdoch threw back his white blanket and stumbled as well as he could to his bathroom while rubbing the sleep out of his eyes.

He walked back out of his meager 6' by 6' bathroom into the only other room in his simple apartment fifteen minutes later, his black and white hair in its customary style of a long singular bang covering his left eye and the rest of it flaring to the left side like he had just stuck his head inside a wind tunnel.

He looked over his small 15' by 10' apartment. His apartment... it was a bit run down, but it had a nice homey feeling and was relatively clean. The walls were peeling a bit, most likely from what was a lack of attention to the wallpaper, but were still clean and not rotten. There was a small leak in the ceiling that was mostly patched. His furniture was a bit worn down but smelled nice and clean. It was fine though, he hardly spent much time in _his_ own apartment. No, most of the time he was staying with Margo and Janice.

He was only here right now because he didn't want to have to get up early with them, and he even managed to fuck that up rather well. Plus, he hadn't 'officially' moved in yet, with Margo that is. They were in agreement, they would both get an apartment together when they were both sure it was serious. As it was, they were fine with just dating and staying over at each other's apartments for nighttime escapades.

As Murdoc moved to the kitchen section of his apartment, meaning the small counter and the gas stove in the corner with a small table nearby, he honestly thought he couldn't ask for anything better. After all, he _was_ a teaching assistant and funding a club.

As it was, he got enough to be considered lower middle class from a government stipend and his job. Seems as though the government forgot who he was, which was funny seeing as he already gets paid by them. Either that, or he somehow turned into a sixty year old woman with a bad kidney disease and a dreadfully long name. Then again, no one ever said Great Britain had the greatest healthcare. Well, no one in Great Britain did anyway.

But like all good things, his mopping came to an end when the stove he was trying to light finally caught. Murdoch took one of his four clean pans sitting nearby on the counter, putting a packet of instant ramen into the pan with some water from the tap of his sink and setting it onto the stove burner to cook. Again, teaching assistant and a twenty four year old guy... In other words he sucked at cooking and didn't care to learn.

After it was done cooking, he turned off the stove, took the pan off and slurped it down quickly. So what if it was boiling only a few seconds ago, he was hungry!

Coming back from the bathroom after making sure he didn't burn his esophagus, and setting the pan down to clean later, the dual haired man put buying new food onto his mental list of things to do.

Murdoc took the time to go over to his dresser of folded clothes. They were all black. He _loathed_ bright and peppy in almost all things, save art. He _loved_ colorful art.

Throwing on a combo of black cargo pants, a black turtle neck shirt, black sneakers with silk socks and black combat gloves, he picked up an ankle length, high collared, pitch black duster.

These clothes weren't exactly acquired 'legally', as one might say. He wanted to own everything legally, or as legal as you can get stealing from the government, so he didn't really take anything big or expensive. But there was just something about them that forced him to take it.

Maybe he could be called a klepto? Nahh...

Meandering over to one of his few mirrors, he put on his duster. Now Murdoc wasn't a person to be vain but he knew he looked fine. A small, straight nose, straight, white teeth, and add that with his odd hair and eyes... yeah, he was hot. Speaking of eyes, his right eye had a red iris and a blue pupil, and his other had a purple iris with a blue pupil. The dual haired man really had no idea how that was even possible, but he wasn't going to complain.

Then again, who would he complain to? (_laughing in the corner_)

He pulled his turtle neck shirt and duster collar up so he had everything up to the bridge of his nose covered. It was _really _cold out.

But he wouldn't buy a beanie or a hat, not after last time. He was mistaken for being a thief, which he is, because of the beanie that was on his head at the time. Turns out it still had the price tag on it, but honestly it just appeared on his head. Magick, some evil wizard was out to get him. Just like that sun!

Of course the cops didn't believe him, and they called Janice since he gave them her name. She was _scary _when she got to the department, and said that if he got arrested again, even the cells wouldn't hold her back from skinning him alive. Suffice to say, he was never caught again.

Janice however, was just one of the things that he looked forward to everyday. There were actually three, Margo, the beautiful red headed fellow assistant teacher, and Janice, the brunette firecracker police officer, being two of them.

Shaking his head to get out of yet another 'brood-mode', Murdoch walked over to the locker standing in the opposite corner of his clothes.

Opening his locker, he pulled out a gun. It was a black with silver lining, HK USP Compact Tactical .45 ACP equipped with a SureFire flashlight and Silencerco Osprey suppressor that was as big as the slide. It was only one of his four guns that he had with the others being much larger.

The first being a black M4 with a Rail Adapter System, Grip Pod vertical forward grip and M68 CCO sight.

The second was a M24E1/XM2010 reconfigured sniper with an Advanced Armament Corp. sound suppressor, muzzle brake and telescopic sight.

But his pride and joy was a MP7A1 with a Defiance HPS 4GSK Cal .45ACP suppressor, extended magazine kit, and a reflex sight.

He trained with them every weekend, and had gotten quite good. A moving target at a hundred yards with a pistol sounds pretty impressive right? Well, he could only do one hundred and fifty yards, but it was still impressive for a pistol. And again the guns were stolen, like some(read:most) of his things. Could he be considered a klepto, seems to be very likely.

The clothes were easy to steal, the guns were a different story... He had tried to break into an armored vehicle, and as it turned out, the vehicle was owned by a CO19 Force Firearms Unit officer of the London Metropolitan Police, who was a great shot. How did he know? ...Well, she yelled that out as she was chasing after him...And shooting. The fact that he tried to break into humvee probably also gave him some clue. For his stupidity, he almost got shot in the ass trying to get away from the gun wielding woman.

Surprising thing is, that he was and still is a close friend of that crazy ass, gun toting woman. They just couldn't see each other clearly enough at the time. Murdoch only learned about it being her because she was ranting about it to both him and Margo during one of their annual movie nights. Janice doesn't know he was the one who took them, but she would know soon. Murdoch would have to tell her... for all his emotional and mental discipline he always feels really bad about lying to the girls.

But Murdoch still has the guns, and now he took at least the pistol everywhere. Less chance of getting mugged if you're packing. The HK USP Compact slid into a holster sown on the inside of his duster on the left breast side.

The young man gathered his black backpack and slipped the straps on, wandering out the door with what could be considered a lumbering slump. He lazily debated locking the door, not that it would really do any good, but he did anyway. It was the point of having the thing.

He started back into his lazy gait down to the first floor of the extremely decayed apartment complex. As soon as he got to the first floor and was about to round the corner to the entrance hall, his Landlord popped out in front of him.

Needless to say, it took a considerable amount of Murdoch's mental discipline to not jump or pummel the foolish old man. The poor old man was around 82 and stood at a small 5'4. With white hair coming from everywhere but his head, a face that resembled a piece of crumpled up paper, and the constant use of a cane he looked like what you might expect a kind old man in a Disney movie to be. But then he would open his mouth, and you would notice the difference between this doddering offensive old fool and a kindly cartoon senior.

"Munds-whatever-your-name-is," Ahh, yes, the ever so classic 'Munds'. How he hated that nickname, and everyone seemed to know it. Weird. "Where is next months rent?!" The old cheapskate screamed out.

Was it time for their customary 'you-stupid-old-man-you-forgot-again' game? Apparently the old man thought it was.

"I believe you are mistaken Mr. Walker." Murdoch replied in an even and polite monotone, the high collar of his duster making it impossible to even tell he was talking in the first place. "You have the wrong month, its the third of August."

"I don't care, pay up now you ingrate! Stop your freeloading and pay up, or get out!" Mr. Walker yelled out while his face started turning a strange shade of purple in his anger.

"Stop yelling please, sir. I have payed on time every month, and I have payed for this month. There is no need for you to yell." Murdoch said in the same monotone, but with growing steel in his voice as his single visible eye seemed to glint in the dim lighting of the ratty hallways. "I will not pay twice for the same month."

"No, you're lying you ruffian! Don't make me call the bobbies! Pay me!" Walker continued to scream for the next five minutes. At the end of his rant, he somehow got away from Murdoch paying, to the shrimp from the restaurant across town not tasting right.

When the old man finally paused to catch his breath, Murdoch finally got a word in. "Mr. Walker, sir, just go look for the money again and please keep your voice down. And my name, again, is Murdoch, or Simon if you prefer."

"Fine, but don't think you seen the last of this, Munds." Mr. Walker tried to sound menacing, but he failed pitifully.

Murdoch sent a red single eyed, cold glare and that seemed to do the trick, as Mr. Walker backed off and shambled into his bunker like office. But the man just knew that this wasn't the end of it, Mr. Walker would forget and be back again tomorrow. Murdoch really did feel for the guy, going senile must suck, but he didn't have time to always play 'I-can't-remember-where-I-left-my-own-ass' with the old codger.

Murdoch did a short breathing exercise, and moved out of the door into semi-fresh air of London, England. Semi-fresh being kind. He lived in the slums. If you couldn't tell by the smell, the state of the buildings and street would tell you.

Trash littered the street, and cars didn't come down the street anymore because it was so hard to drive without damaging your car. That meant no trash pick up, so the bottom layers of the stuff was probably already degraded. The buildings were filled with holes, be it from kids throwing rocks or drive by shootings, which was extremely rare. Surprisingly, there were very few deaths in the area. But that was more due to people having nothing to steal than an actual lack of crime.

Murdoch in a lazy gait, walked down the crumbling sidewalk towards the bus stop about twelve blocks away. He walked past the boarded up shop windows, the broken windows, and the cars laying on cinder blocks.

It took forty minutes to get to the bus stop, which was in a state of horrible disrepair. There were three other people standing with him waiting. They looked like your typical thug types, tattoos, piercings, chains, the whole stereotypical chabang, albeit really wimpy. Two of them had on black vests and jeans, while the third was wearing a black muscle shirt and cargo pants. They all had a different amount of piercings on their body, with the two 'vest-twins' having the lowest amount of one or two piercings. The third, in the muscle shirt, had so many piercings his face looked half metal. And they acted just like the thugs they dressed as.

"'Ive up yer 'oney, an' yew won' 'et 'urt!" Demanded what Murdoch assumed was the lead thug, based upon the amount of piercings and tattoos that the man had. He stepped forward in what he probably thought was a threatening gesture... it looked pitiful.

"'Eah, 'ive us yer 'oney." Second thug to the rescue... or not. They both had atrocious accents, and honestly they were like the start of a bad joke. If he had to compare the ascent, it would be similar to a horribly fake Australian accent rather than any semblance of a normal, albeit heavy, british one.

"Please, just give us some money, sir. I'm sorry for the inconvenience." The third thug said kindly. Now that was a surprise, Murdoch expected the third one, who had the least piercings, to be even more idiotic than tweedledum, and tweedledee in front of him. Maybe he wouldn't hurt the third one. Maybe.

The first thug, took Murdoch's silence as a rebuke and pulled out a switchblade. He rushed at Murdoch and tried to tear into him.

The thug only got within arms reach of Murdoch, who in turn grabbed the thugs wrist and stopping the knife. The thug tried to use his other arm to punch him, but Murdoch just stepped back and dragged the thug using his still caught hand.

The thug stumbled and fell, and Murdoch just took the thug's knife holding hand and used it to stab him in the thigh, careful not to nick the femoral artery.

It was over in less than a minute, with thug one crying his eyes out, rolling on the ground and holding his wounded thigh. Murdoch kicked him in the head just to make him shut up, which he did once unconscious.

Of course being the untrained idiots they were, the second and third thugs just stood there and watched. Really, he knew they were idiotic, but this is just a bit much.

"Next." Murdoch said in his same monotone, his one visible eye half-lidded in boredom. When was the damnable bus going to get here?

The second thug charged with what might have sounded to him like a battle cry.

Murdoch just stepped out of the way and tripped him. He sighed as he kicked the second thug in the face, knocking him out and breaking his nose. These guys were beyond pitiful.

"What about you?" Murdoch asked the third thug with a narrowed eye. He really didn't want to hurt the kid, he looked about sixteen, plus he actually spoke without much of an accent. Murdoch would still kick the shit out of him if he had to, but he would feel just a tiny bit worse about it.

The thug looked at his two accomplices, then at Murdoch, then back again. He shrugged and turned around, already walking away. "I'm not as stupid as those two idiots, have good day sir." The thug called as he disappeared around a corner and left Murdoch with his two former accomplices.

Murdoch had to admit, that kid was smarter than he seemed. Still stupid for joining the other two, but he wasn't brain dead.

For example, the second (unofficial obviously, and don't bring me up on this!) rule of mugging is to either be stronger than your target or have a group whose combined strength is stronger than your target's. They probably forgot many other rules, but that was the main one Murdoch could remember. Idiots.

Murdoch could keep his emotions under lock most of the time, but after fights he always had to do some breathing exercises. The longer he ignored his feelings, the longer the technique would take. So he took a minute to catch his breath.

Standing in the cool August air, Murdoch took to scribbling on a notepad. It was a picture of him and his three favorite people, the fact that the girls happened to be nude was just an innocent coincidence. Totally a coincidence and not perverted in the least that he actually knew their measurements.

In the twenty minutes it took for the bus to get to the stop, and the ten minutes it took to get near the school, he had the drawing ready for color. Also within the twenty minutes of waiting, he had to knock out the first thug around seven times after he kept screaming about 'never being able to walk again', and 'stabbing stupid goth bastards who had no value for human life'.

Murdoch resented that, he definitely knew he wasn't goth, so he gave him a few extra hard kicks every time he said it.

**~ 10:40 A.M. - August, 3, 2013 - Our Lady of London Academy~**

He got off at the stop and it was only a short walk to the front gate. He looked up at the foreboding structure in front of him. OLL Academy, the place where he hated and loved to be. He was probably late for the first period, but he could go see Margo and not be too late to 3rd period. Hey, he was the assistant, not the teacher.

A few of the students would stop and stare as they went to class. Many of the 1 year student would mutter, asking the 2nd and 3rd year students why there was a gangster walking in the hall. The older students would then shut them up as fast as possible.

Murdoch might have been known for being thug, but they also knew he could be sadistic, in more ways then one.

Walking down the hall Murdoch, while ignoring the idiotic children around him, spotted the one person he hated more than anything else in his entire life. McThorn Farthington. The petty bastard with a ridiculous name was standing in the hallway talking to a small first year girl who was wearing the standard sailor uniform.

From the look on her face, what Thorn was telling her must have rocked her world. She seemed to have stars in her eyes as she was practically gaping at him. But as always with Thorn, it was probably some made up shit to get her to listen to his every word.

'_Time for my favorite game, screw-with-Thorn-and-see-if-he-pops-a-nut. Ahh, I'm a genius when it comes to names.'_

Murdoch slowly creeped up until he was right behind Thorn, the girl seemed to have gone into her own little world. Good, it would be hilarious to see her reaction and those of all around.

The pedo's, in other words Thorn's, hand was slowly reaching from where it was on her shoulder and going down. It seemed like either no one noticed or they didn't care. Probably the later.

'_Really this like what, the third time I've had to stop him this month? They should really watch the teachers when they're around the girls dressed in skimpy clothes.' _Murdoch would have sighed if he didn't already school his emotions. _'Time for some five star acting.'_

Just before Thorn could grasp his 'prize', Murdoch slung his arm over Thorn's shoulders. Thorn threw his arm back to his side, looking shocked and scared as hell for a second, before he saw who was hanging on him. Then there was just anger.

"Young lady," Murdoch said in his most condescendingly fake voice, a perfect imitation of Thorn if he'd ever heard him, it seemed to snap the girl out of her trance as she blinked a few times at the new arrival. "Do you know who you were talking to?"

"Yes, sir." She said timidly. Aww, cute, she's so shy. Why would she be sh-... Ohh, yeah... He looked like a thug...Meh, he didn't care.

'_And since when did I _ever_ think anything was cute? Okay, maybe that one time... and that one...huh Margo is rubbing off on me.'_

"Really now I don't think that this is-" Thorn started, trying to interrupt the conversation before the assistant hanging on him could say anything that might damage the progress he had made with the girl.

"Ahh, but Thorn, I'm sure she would love to know more about you. Isn't that right, miss.." Murdoch interrupted, he knew all about Thorn's little dirty secrets and it was just too fun not to exploit them.

"Lea Hilton, sir." She said again shyly. Thorn took the chance to throw off Murdoch's arm, but he wasn't fazed in the least.

"Well Lea, did you know that Thorn here has a dad in congress." At her questioning look he nodded, while Thorn opened his mouth to cut him off. "Yes, it's true. Why don't you tell us about him, Thorn?" Murdoch turned to Thorn and said in a voice that actually sounded genuinely interested.

Thorn was grinding his teeth but still managed to grit out an answer, "Yes my father works in congress as a senator. Now, Munds... I think that you have a class-" Thorn finished quickly with a smirk and tried to shoo Murdoch away using the cursed nickname, but that would be making it easy for the rat.

"What about all the back door deals? Certainly you wouldn't forget about those, would you? After all, you were present for most of them. One even got you out of being thrown in jail for being a sexual predator." Murdoch said in a voice that was just too innocent.

"I have absolutely no-"

"Ohh, you don't, do you? Well then, how about I jog your memory. You know that little twelve year old who testified? Of course you do, you tried to molest her. Then you had the gall to actually threaten her with getting her expelled, and your bastard of a father got you out of jail with a slap on the wrist." Murdoch said with an incredibly cheerful voice.

Murdoch then turned back to Lea and said in the same cheerful tone, "Don't trust a snake not to have fangs, Lea. You just might end up bitten. And don't trust a pedo not to act on his urges."

Lea looked like a fish with her mouth opening and closing rapidly, while Thorn was gritting his teeth so hard that his gums had to have been gushing blood.

"See ya, Thorn! Resist the urge!" Murdoch called out as he walked down the hall and around the hall. He just barely heard the girl turn away from Thorn, and Thorn's cursing afterwards.

It might have scared the two to know that throughout the entire exchange that under his collars not a single expression crossed his face, save for a small twitch of the lips. Well, if you call a giant bloodthirsty smirk a twitch.

'_I deserve an Oscar for that. No, scratch that, I deserve at least two.'_

Once he was around the corner, the dual haired young man leaned against the wall and slid down it. Thankfully, he was alone in the hallway. That was a moderately long time to suppress himself, and it took a few minutes to compose himself. Pushing off the ground, he would've groaned had he been anyone else.

As it was, the young man just proceeded to jog to the patio to meet with his girlfriend for lunch, ignoring the mutterings of the students pointing him out as the 'thug' or 'goth'. Pausing just outside to prepare himself for the 'pleasurable-hug-of-death', the dual haired young man opened the door.

Almost immediately his face was emerged in the most glorious pillows ever know to man. Murdoch almost blushed, almost, but he returned the hug. He was barely able to get his arms around the woman hugging him, being forced to stoop a bit due to her 5'7 frame.

"Murdoch, honey! You're here!" It was Margo Maceia, the 27-year old ditsy but bubbly teaching assistant whose breasts were the stuff of legend. Really, it was amazing how she could even move with what must be J-cup sized breasts... which were now slowly suffocating him.

"Hey babe, how are you?" Murdoch said a bit muffled by the amount of flesh in his face. But he was smiling, Margo just had this way with people, even if they couldn't see it some of the time.

Margo giggled and grasped his head even tighter while rubbing her cheek on top of his head, much like a cat might. "I feel great Munds!"

Though it might have looked strange for a six foot teen to have his face stuffed in a set of cleavage in a school, unless you were a pervert, it was just her customary greeting for him. Murdoch would have been happy to die right there, as even though he hated _peppy_, it was just physically impossible for him to hate or even dislike her. He's even dating her!

Margo has long red hair that extends down past her waist, and blue eyes. Several bangs of her hair come down onto her face, with two bangs coming down at the sides running all the way down while also framing her face. As usual, she had sleepy half lidded eyes. Margo was dressed in a white dress shirt with a brown skirt, both of which did nothing to hide her figure. In fact, the straining fabric brought the size of her 'melons' to the attention of all no matter who she was with.

Margo let _her _Murdoch from her 'death-hug' and pouted at the 24 year old. "Why didn't you call yesterday?" The 27 year old woman either was incredibly innocent, or she love to act like a little kid.

"Ah... but babe I was just relaxing." Murdoch asked with a slight inflection in his voice that told her he was messing with her again.

"Mou~~ Munds is so mean!" The assistant again pouted and whined before letting go of Murdoch, who now had a twitching left eye. She went over to the door and looked outside before deeming it clear and closing it.

As soon as the door shut, Margo's arms were around Murdoch's waist and his arms around her. She sighed and started humming before pulling her arms onto the front of his chest. He started chuckling while she grabbed his collar and almost ripped it off. Margo grabbed his head and pulled him into a hot passionate kiss that wasn't lacking in tongue. With a soft 'pop', she let go of his head and again grabbed his waist. They might have to keep their relationship a secret from most, but that didn't stop her.

"Aww... Mars, someone is getting grabby." The raven haired man said chuckling warmly. It was like always with her and Janice, as soon as he was alone with them his barriers came down and he was just a normal goofy guy. _'Only for you babe.'_

"What have you been doing that's kept you from us these past few days?" The buxom redhead said with a raised brow as she led them to bench and pushed him into it.

"Well, I haven't been doing anything. I just didn't feel like coming here." That immediately earned the dual hair colored teen a bop to the head courtesy of Margo.

"That is not an answer," The blond said as she straddled his lap on the bench and threw her arms around his neck. They had done this so many times, that it was by pure muscle reflex that Murdoch put his arms over her hips.

"Okay, well I think I need to talk with Janice about something, and it took awhile to figure out what to say." Mumbling a bit, the man wanted to look anywhere other than into his girlfriend's eyes. Unfortunately, or fortunately depending on who you are, her eyes were the only thing he could look at.

"Idiot! You didn't think to tell us? We were all worried that you got hurt!" She scolded him with a fist to the head before hugging him and giving him a small chaste peck on the lips.

"Okay, okay, so where is Janice?" Murdoch asked since he really wanted to just get the fact he took the guns off his chest.

"She's at a training camp right now, and she won't be back for a week. What do you need to tell her so badly?" The blond nurse said pouting before leaning into the touch of her love as he absentmindedly stroked her cheek with his hand.

"Well do you remember when she told us about the guns that were stolen from her?" He asked a bit tentatively.

Putting her index finger on her lip and leaning back in his lap, she said, "Um... I think so. Was that when she started laughing about almost shooting some guy little more than two weeks back?"

Murdoch almost cringed, "Yeah, thats right."

"Yeah I remember, it was hilarious. She started ranting on and on about killing some guy and you just got paler and paler. Why do you ask?" Margo tilted her head to the side cutely and stuck her tongue out just a little bit.

"Okay, don't get angry but I think that I might have..." Margo was just starting to get a bit worried about what her boyfriend was going to say. " I might have... stolenthegunsfromJanicewithoutknowingandnottoldyououtoffearofwhatyoumightdo."

Margo flatly stared at him with her half lidded, "What?"

"Uhh..I stole the guns from Janice without knowing and not told you out of fear of what you might do." The teen had his eyes screwed shut, so he never saw the relieved look that passed over Margo's face. He did feel her feather light kiss on his forehead though.

Opening his eyes, "Wha-"

Margo just giggled at how cute he was acting compared to his cold, distant self. "You foolish boy, you think that we didn't find your pistol in your coat. Plus guns are really hard to buy here, so we never believed that you actually got it legally. You come over almost every other day, she forgave you awhile ago, though she does want some of them back."

Thinking of a quick lie, Murdoch supplied, "... I sold them before Janice told us. All I have is the pistol."

His buxom girl friend glared at him for a moment, "Don't lie to me Murdoch," The man tensed for a moment under her as she leaned back and grabbed the sides of his head. "But I don't really care about the guns. All the better for you to have them, seeing as you live in that disgusting place. When we talk to Janice though, you will tell her the truth. No lying either of us, okay?"

"Fine, because I know you both will castrate me if I do." Murdoch muttered under his breath, and the redhead went back to leaning on his chest with her head tucked under his chin.

"So, where are the other two?" Murdoch asked as one of his hands stroked the hair of the women currently pressed against him.

Margo looked at he watch, "There's still five minutes left until second period ends, so still in class."

"Well it looks like I'm skipping some more classes today." The teen said to the redhead laying on him who was only half awake.

"Go to sleep Munds,, you have the time and I'm comfy..." Margo whined softly, while snuggling closer.

"I'm surprised they have tried to fire me yet..." The black and white haired man then realised just how quickly a person could fall asleep. After all he was then stuck laying under one _very_ well endowed and beautiful women. And one power nap couldn't hurt.

**~ Patio outside of main building - 12:20 P.M. / August, 3, 2013~**

Murdoch was woken from his wonderful dream by a poke to his forehead. It didn't hurt but it was annoying.

When he opened his eyes, he saw the sight of the people who could basically be called his best friends. The faces of Mark Terry and Karin Redwood were crowding his view so all he could see was them.

Mark had short, straight blond hair. He was also almost as tall as Murdoch but twice the width. Karin has short cut, light orange hair and a small bust.

Karin was the one who made sure that he was one time, and she used Mark to force Murdoch into class on occasion.

"Why have you been avoiding us?" Karin said with a pout and a glare.

"Yeah, where have you been?" Mark demanded while crossing his arms over his chest.

"I wasn't avoiding both of you, I had to go do some things." The young man replied while Karin and Mark both smacked his head.

"Thats the same thing I did to him when he told me." Margo giggled, perfectly fine with laying on her boyfriend's chest as their friends smacked him.

"You could have at least told us that you wouldn't be coming." Mark said a bit coldly.

"Yeah you could have told any one of us, and we would have told the others." Karin said with a bigger glare than before.

"I'm sorry, Mark, Karin. I should have told one of you." Their glares and pouts lessened but still were present.

Mark and Karin looked at each other from the sides of their eyes and nodded.

"Well as payment for you forgetting us, you are coming with me to get the club meeting ready." The orange haired teen exclaimed, pulling on the young man's arm and almost dislodging a pouting Margo from her spot.

"Fine, fine, but you know how I would have been there anyway." The young man said as he gently lifted the redhead off of himself.

With almost no time to give a quick goodbye kiss to Margo, Karin pulled Murdoch out the door and down the hall. Leaving the other teen to trail after them, and Margo to go to her class..

**~Time skip - 6:00 P.M. - Margo's and Janice's apartment~**

Both Margo and Murdoch got out of the redhead's old Volkswagen Beetle once they passed the apartment buildings gate. They then proceeded to walk up the stairs and into the apartment. The raven haired teen collapsed onto the couch after throwing off his duster and boots. He was about to pass out when Margo slipped in beside him and threw her bare feet into his lap, which led to him have to massage them.

As both drifted asleep, there was a knock on the door. Murdoch got up, leaving a disgruntled Margo, and walked to the door. Through the peephole, he could see two men in black suits.

Seeing the door open, the first suited male asked, "Are you Murdoch Simon?"

Despite the feelings of dread, Murdoch replied, "Yes, who are you and what do you want?"

The two ignored both his questions and pulled out badges. Flipping open the badges, the grabbed both his arms. "MI6, sir you're going to have to answer questions about a break in concerning the theft of military quality weapons."

Murdoch's one thought as they put handcuffs on him was, 'Damn, I hope their cells can hold back Janice.'

* * *

**Everyone with me now, Wheet-whoo!**


End file.
